


Hold Me Down

by memeicorn



Category: Youtubers, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: (a tiny bit of angst) (not too much i promise), Angst, Cheating, Escort Service, M/M, Praise Kink, Prostitution, Songfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2018-09-18 08:00:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9375602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memeicorn/pseuds/memeicorn
Summary: It’s none of his business - it never should be - but Ethan didn’t miss the golden band on Tyler’s left ring finger while he was in bed with him. It’s far from the first time he’s slept with a married man, but his brain clings to the thought of it.He thinks about what got Tyler into such an unhappy marriage that turned him to pay a blue-haired twink for a lay.He thinks about what Tyler does for a living, what other kinds of secrets he’s keeping, and from whom.He thinks about the feeling of Tyler’s mouth on his and how it almost felt like praise, like it was a reward for a job well done.He turns the radio all the way down because his mind is so loud.





	1. Holy

**Author's Note:**

> i listened to too much halsey and suddenly a big pseudo-songfic happened ?? oops
> 
> this is the first multi-chap fic i’ve attempted so pls be nice !!! i’m aiming for 5 chapters but we’ll see how it goes. italicized text at the start and end of each chapter is lyrics from the halsey song “hold me down”
> 
> (note: no crankiplier in this chap but it's comin! look out!)

 

   
_i sold my soul to a three-piece_  
_and he told me i was holy  
_  

 

“Oh, God, sir,” Ethan whimpers, back arching as Tyler thrusts inside him, making the headboard of the bed bump against the wall with each pointed snap of his hips.

“Such a beautiful boy,” Tyler muses, brushing blue locks out of Ethan’s eyes, keeping his other hand firmly planted on Ethan’s hip for leverage. “So well-behaved.”

Ethan tries to say “oh, thank you, sir,” but it comes out more whine than words. He closes his eyes and focuses on stroking his own cock with the rhythm of Tyler’s movements. The backbeat of the bed thumping behind them remains steady, and Ethan begins to sympathize for whomever is staying in the next room.

The sound of Tyler’s voice from above him returns him to the moment. “Want me to cum on you, beautiful?”

“Mm, yes please, sir,” Ethan moans out. Tyler thrusts desperately inside Ethan for a few more seconds before pulling out. He peels the condom off from its base and paints his release all over Ethan’s stomach and chest, as promised.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Ethan whines, the motions of his hand accelerating over his own cock. He shuts his eyes again, focusing on the sensations of his strokes and Tyler’s warm cum on his stomach. Not a moment later, he lets out one final gasp and his orgasm hits; he shoots his cum onto his torso, twitching with every spurt.

When Ethan finally opens his eyes, Tyler is looking down at him with a half-lidded gaze, chest red and heaving. The two of them are left in a stereo chorus of their breaths and pants as they come back to earth.

“Don’t move, I’ll grab you a towel,” Tyler declares, escaping from between Ethan’s legs and  
hopping off the bed.

Ethan smiles. “Thank you, sir.” He waits patiently, catching his breath until Tyler comes back, armed with a plush white hand towel. Ethan takes it from him, thanks him again, then wipes the pool of semen off his stomach. He watches as Tyler puts his clothes back on, a little disappointed to see his chiseled form disappearing beneath the fabric of a tank top and boxer shorts.

“You can hop in the shower if you want,” Tyler offers.

Ethan squints at the glowing red numbers on the nightstand alarm clock, then props himself up on his elbows. “Are you sure, sir? You still have about twenty minutes left.”

Tyler shakes his head and shrugs. “Don’t sweat it. Just clean yourself up.” He takes the washcloth from Ethan, then throws him a fresh, clean towel. “And drop the ‘sir’. My name’s Tyler.”

Ethan nods slowly. He’s no stranger to his clients introducing themselves by name, but he usually never strays from his habitual “sir”s (and occasional “daddy”s, if the client requests it). Something about the way the low lamp light hits Tyler’s face makes his name fall from Ethan’s throat, though. “Tyler. Okay. Thanks, Tyler.”

Ethan’s still thinking about him when he gets in the shower. He thinks about how Tyler felt inside of him as he rakes his fingers through his wet hair. He presses his fingers into the sore spot on his hip that’s surely budding into a hand-shaped bruise, and thinks about how strong Tyler’s hands were on him. He tries to shake it off as surprise, shock that a client would give him enough time to be alone with his thoughts while he was still on the clock.

Ethan exits the washroom to find his clothes folded neatly on the edge of the bed. An impressed expression paints his face without his meaning to or thinking about it.

Tyler flashes him a hint of a smirk. “Figured you wouldn’t want those to get all wrinkled.”

“Thanks,” Ethan says, reaching for his underwear before he pauses. “Did you want anything else? We still have a bit of time left.”

The silence that follows says Tyler’s stopping to think. He walks around the bed, captures Ethan’s chin in his hand, and kisses him gently. Ethan is surprised - they hadn’t kissed once during the appointment, but the touch of Tyler’s lips is gentle and reserved, starkly contrasting with his rough lovemaking. Ethan sinks into the kiss, feeling the tension in his whole body ease.

They continue for a few drawn-out moments, but eventually Tyler breaks off. “I don’t want to keep you,” he says, “but we should do this again.”

“Oh, sure,” Ethan says. He takes a moment to pull on his underwear, feeling slightly self-conscious standing nude next to a modestly-covered Tyler. “I’ll give you my work number.” Tyler proceeds to pass Ethan his phone, a sleek-looking new smartphone model, with a fresh contact page open. Ethan types in the number first, then pauses at the name field. He considers giving him the fake name he normally uses with his regular clients, then simply types in ‘Ethan’, turning a blind eye to his better judgment.

Tyler accepts his phone back from Ethan. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Ethan. May I walk you out to your car?”

Ethan’s friendly, but he’s not stupid. He beams a smile at Tyler, and this time it’s one of his forced smiles, the kind that says he’s done with a client for the night. “I have a ride waiting for me outside. Thank you though, sir.” A beat passes, then he corrects himself with “Tyler.”

He takes the elevator to the parkade on his own, driving away from the hotel with the thought of Tyler still lurking over his head. It’s none of his business - it never should be - but he didn’t miss the golden band on Tyler’s left ring finger while he was in bed with him. It’s far from the first time he’s slept with a married man, but his brain clings to the thought of it. He thinks about what got Tyler into such an unhappy marriage that turned him to pay a blue-haired twink for a lay. He thinks about Tyler’s suit jacket and tie, abandoned on the hotel room floor in favour of skin on skin between the two of them. He thinks about what Tyler does for a living, what other kinds of secrets he’s keeping, and from whom. He thinks about the feeling of Tyler’s mouth on his and how it almost felt like praise, like it was a reward for a job well done. He turns the radio all the way down because his mind is so loud.

“Come on, Ethan,” he says aloud to himself. “Get it together. He’s just a client, you’re just doing your job.”

That night, though, he brings his work home with him. Stripping down as soon as his bedroom door is closed behind him, he splays out on his bed and travels back to the hotel room in his mind. He winds up fingering himself open, imagining it’s Tyler above him again, praising him for being such a well-behaved, beautiful boy. Ethan hopes his roommate doesn’t hear him moaning Tyler’s name when he comes.

   
  
_he’s got me down on both knees_  
_but it’s the devil that’s trying to hold me down  
_  

 


	2. Speak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well, just be careful you don’t upset the balance of the bachelor pad when you go,” Mark quips, bringing his fork to his mouth again.
> 
> Ethan shakes his head. “See, it’s funny you say that, because he’s married. Or, at least, I think he is.”
> 
> “Oh, another one, huh?”
> 
> “I’m not getting into any weird trouble or anything. It’s just business.”
> 
> “I get it, just business,” Mark echoes, pauses, then, “but... if you need a ride back from his place or anything, let me know, okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> april fucking fools bitch 
> 
> i stole this joke from [1000trillionpercent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/1000trillionpercent/) when he updated [sharpshooter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8848342/chapters/20289991) on april fool's day after four months, except for me it's been over a year, so i hope that's hilarious to someone other than me

  
  
  
_my demons are begging me to open up my mouth_  
_i need them, mechanically make the words come out_  
  


 

“Ethan!” Mark is calling his name from the kitchen.

Ethan sets his phone down on his bed before padding out of his bedroom, into the hallway. “What’s up?” He asks, finding Mark at their dining table eating breakfast.

“Work phone,” Mark replies, nodding towards the counter. The phone in question is lit up with a text message on their shared kitchen counter.

Ethan smiles at his roommate. They had previously agreed to keep the phone off silent at all times, in watch of one of the two of them, just in case Ethan had to take a call at a moment’s notice. “Thanks, pal,” Ethan says with a grin.

**_Unknown number (10:32 AM):_** _Hi Ethan. It’s Tyler. I have the house to myself for the next week - did you want to make arrangements some night?_

“Hm,” Ethan thinks out loud.

Mark raises an eyebrow at his roommate. “Let me take a guess on this one,” he says, looking up from his plateful of eggs to study Ethan’s face. “I bet it’s that guy who pays extra for you to do weird stuff with your feet.”

“Not this time,” Ethan replies with a giggle. “It’s this client I had a few nights ago and he wants to meet up again. I had no idea he lived in town, though. That’s interesting.”

“Well, just be careful you don’t upset the balance of the bachelor pad when you go,” Mark quips, bringing his fork to his mouth again.

Ethan shakes his head. “See, it’s funny you say that, because he’s married. Or, at least, I think he is.”

“Oh, another one, huh?”

“I’m not getting into any weird trouble or anything. It’s just business.”

“I get it, just business,” Mark echoes, pauses, then, “but... if you need a ride back from his place or anything, let me know, okay?” His eyes fill with concern.

As much as Mark can be a pain sometimes, Ethan appreciates how much he seems to genuinely care about his safety on the job. Approaching the kitchen table, he pulls up the chair adjacent to his roommate and sighs. “Honestly, I’ll probably take you up on that, just to be on the safe side. Listen, though, he’s so good in bed. He kept calling me beautiful and shit. It was awesome.” Ethan returns to his phone, composing a response to Tyler’s proposal.

_**Ethan (10:35 AM)** : Of course. How does Friday look for you?_

“Well, that’s good,” Mark says. “I mean, If he’s gonna be a regular client, you might as well get a good fucking out of him.”

Grimacing, Ethan nudges him. “You have such a dirty mind.”

“Oh, so _you’re_ the one who’s having sex for money, but _I’m_ the one who’s dirty. I get it. I see how it is,” Mark quips back. Before Ethan has a chance to respond, his phone chimes a dutiful tri-tone as he receives another text.

_**Unknown number (10:36 AM):** Perfect. How’s 7pm sound? Same arrangement as last time?_

_**Ethan (10:36 AM):** See you then, handsome._

When Friday rolls around, Mark drops Ethan off at the address he gets. Ethan can’t help it, but the whole car ride there, his mind is racing. Tyler is impressive, sure, but Ethan has never felt performance anxiety like this since he first started doing sex work. He still has so many questions about Tyler that he wants answered. It’s so unlike it usually is with his regular clients, but he’s actually excited to see Tyler again, if only to learn more about him through his body. His anxieties don’t get quieter when Mark’s GPS guides them to a posh neighbourhood in a rich part of town; clearly Tyler has money and power on top of a wife, and he isn’t shy about any of it.

They park on the street in front of Tyler’s house, and Mark places his hand gently on Ethan’s, whose fingers tighten around it without a second thought. “All right - I’ll be back at least fifteen minutes early, okay? If anything goes wrong or changes, text me.”

“Thanks, Mark,” Ethan says with a wide smile. His thumb lingers on his roommate’s for a moment before he leaves. He waits for Mark to pull around the corner and turn the engine off - standard fare for them, so Mark can watch him get through the door - then steps up and rings Tyler’s doorbell.

The door swings open, and Tyler’s standing there in a crew neck tee and grey sweatpants, severely countering what Ethan had expected of him from last time. “Hey, thanks for coming,” he says, stepping aside and allowing Ethan to pass through the threshold.

Ethan responds with a warm “thank _you_ for the invite,” but in his mind, he’s fully investigating. His eyes begin darting around the room, and he focuses on anything that will tell him about Tyler’s life, history, or family. He sees trophies up on high shelves, too far away to read any of the plaques, but they look like wrestling trophies. Framed photos, all of him and the same woman, dot the end tables and walls; at this point, there’s no questioning that he’s married.

“Here,” Tyler says, reaching into his wallet and extending a few crisp bills to Ethan. He accepts them and counts them quickly, verifying that Tyler was paying for the same amount of time as their previous encounter. He smiles politely and tucks the bills into his own wallet before sliding it back into his back pocket, out of sight.

“Thank you so much. Now, may we kiss this time?” Ethan nearly punctuates it with a “sir” before he catches himself.

Tyler doesn’t respond verbally, just pulls Ethan in by his waist. Their last kiss was swift and a bit hasty, but Tyler is clearly in no hurry now, drinking in all of Ethan through the contact of their lips. Ethan sighs deep; Tyler is firm, and he uses tongue conservatively but effectively. He finds his mind getting ahead of him, wandering to the thought of that tongue in other places, on the tip of his cock, swirling at his entrance...

“Your lips are so soft,” Tyler breaks off and remarks, and Ethan grins politely. Tyler kisses him again, his hands exploring the belt loops on Ethan’s pants, the waistband of his briefs, and the hem of his shirt.

Typically, at this point in the appointment, Ethan would drift into autopilot, acting on his natural day-to-day work instincts until the client gives him instructions. However, this time he’s fixated on taking in his surroundings, eyes scanning the china cabinet, the cushions on the furniture, anything that will allow him to peer into Tyler’s world a little more. He lets out a soft sigh as Tyler’s mouth migrates to his jaw.

“How do you want me to take you?” Tyler asks him, lips leaving a warm trail up and down the column of his neck. The request comes purred in a tone that makes Ethan shiver.

“That depends, how would you like me?” Ethan asks, assuming he’s referring to sexual positions.

“The bedroom’s free if you want it. We don’t have to go there if it’ll make you feel weird, though.”

“Oh.” Suddenly Ethan understands, and he’s a bit more distressed now that Tyler is outright acknowledging his adultery. “The bedroom’s fine. Unless you’d rather me on the kitchen table. Or in the shower.” He tries to use seduction tactics to dissipate some of the tension, fingertips wandering across Tyler’s neck, jaw and chin.

“Bedroom it is,” Tyler mumbles, and returns his attention to Ethan’s neck, stopping to suck a mark in the divot where it meets his collarbone. He lingers there for a drawn-out beat, then finally pulls away and takes Ethan’s hand, leading him up the staircase.

Ethan finds himself in a bedroom so expansive that he can’t even imagine how many of his own bedroom could fit inside it. As he lays down on Tyler’s bed, he observes the softness of the mattress and cleanliness of the bedsheets, sighing out a small breath as it happens. His mind dwells on how Tyler’s life is so pristine. As Tyler climbs on top of him and begins to ravish him once more, he mulls further over how that might have translated to imperfections in his marriage. Ethan finds his clothes being pulled off before he thinks consciously to do it himself.

“May I?” Tyler asks.

Ethan feels a bit ashamed that he even has to ask, knowing that he shouldn’t be getting distracted from the task at hand, but he nods and lets his client’s hands take him over regardless. As Tyler strips him, fingers gripping and tugging, all hunger and lust, Ethan’s body is wracked with arousal. He’s hit again with the physical memory of Tyler’s dominance, his charge, and his unwavering control of their sexual tempo. Not all his clients make his body tingle with anticipation so soon into their appointment, but Ethan feels himself harden behind the zipper of his jeans more and more with each warm touch from Tyler’s insistent hands.

As they undress, Ethan notes that Tyler isn’t just touching, but _exploring_ , massaging and roving to electrify all of Ethan’s nerves. Tyler starts to mumble praises for the body beneath his hands, admiring all its shapes and curves aloud. Little sparks travel down Ethan’s spine as he hears murmurs of “beautiful” and “perfect” ring in his ears.

Soon, as if programmed into him, Ethan is flipping Tyler over and climbing him like a tree, mouth wandering down his chest and abdomen. He stops to indulge himself in licking and sucking at Tyler’s skin, particularly around his nipples. He knows better than to leave any bruises or marks, but he delights in pulling back from a nibble to see the skin whiten, then fade into colour again.

When he pulls Tyler’s length out of his shorts, Ethan can feel his mouth start to water, taking a moment to admire the sight of it before pulling a condom from the pocket of his abandoned jeans. He deftly puts it on, then wraps his lips around Tyler’s shaft. As he begins to sink down, Tyler throws his head back on his pillows, a soft whimper leaving his lips. He starts gripping at Ethan’s hair, hips twitching upwards microscopically.

Ethan pulls off again, wipes a string of saliva from his lips, then says, “You can fuck my mouth if you want. I don’t mind,” in the sultriest voice he can muster.

The permission makes Tyler groan out a sigh, then grip tighter at the back of Ethan’s head. Something changes or snaps within him that Ethan immediately notes once he finds Tyler buried deeper in his throat, the pace completely out of his control as Tyler’s hips move, more vigorously and erratically this time. He initiates every technique he can remember to suppress his gag reflex, trying not to make the noises from his throat appear obvious. Bubbles of saliva begin to form where his lips meet Tyler’s shaft.

“God, your mouth is so fucking perfect,” Tyler says under his breath, using both hands to hold Ethan’s lips flush with the base of his shaft for a moment, releasing him once he starts sputtering.

Ethan mentally kicks himself for the retching noise that surfaces from his throat, but Tyler doesn’t seem to mind. “Your cock is huge,” he remarks sheepishly as he catches his breath.

  
“Thanks,” Tyler chuckles, a bit sheepish. His inhibitions last exactly as long as it takes for him to hit the back of Ethan’s throat again - after that, he’s all slack jaws and twitching fingers once more.

Ethan’s trying _so hard_ to focus on the appointment, he really is. He’d hoped that, as time progressed, he’d slowly be able to forget his underlying qualms and do the dirty work. Unfortunately for him, the echoes in his head are only bouncing off each other, escalating to a haunting reverb, helpfully supplying the soundtrack for the encounter. Is he bi? Closeted gay? Polyamorous? Maybe his “wife” is really just his platonic life partner? No, that wouldn’t explain the wedding rings. Maybe they wear them to deter people from hitting on-

“Ethan,” comes a distant voice from above him, and for a second Ethan jumps at the sound of his real name falling from a client’s lips. _Oh, duh. That’s my fault,_ he thought.

“Yes, beautiful?” The pet name surprises Ethan the most. It’s a mimicry of something he heard from Tyler during their first appointment, and he knows because it’s been clinging to his mind every day since then.

“Get on your hands and knees.”

Ethan’s cock visibly jumps at the command, and he heeds it without so much as a second thought. He presses his forehead obediently to the mattress, hearing the sound of Tyler shuffling for lube, then seeing nothing but stars when his entrance invites the presence of two wide fingers.

“Yes, that’s a good boy,” Tyler hisses, fingers twisting and pulling inside his partner. Ethan can see him stroking himself slowly in his mind’s eye. Sometimes he’s embarrassed thinking about the sight of his own helplessness, but right now he wouldn’t be happier doing anything but serving his image, a feast for one. Tyler’s fingers are wider and warmer than Ethan’s, and already far superior to the substitute he’s been giving himself in the long nights between their first encounter and right now.

Once Tyler seems done stretching Ethan, he withdraws his fingers and leans in, whispering “you ready for this cock?” next to his ear.

“Yes, daddy,” Ethan chokes out without even thinking about it. He feels the colour drain from the surface of his skin when he realises that Tyler could actually be a father.

It doesn’t stick, though, because Tyler just groans “Good fuckin’ boy,” punctuated with a slap on Ethan’s ass, hard enough that it’ll leave an angry red handprint later. Ethan makes a noise, equal parts moan-of-pleasure and sigh-of-relief. If Tyler really were a father, he seemed strangely okay being called such a name in such an intimate setting.

Ethan can’t entertain the thought for long, not once Tyler sinks into him from tip to hilt in one swift motion, because he nearly blacks out.

 

 

_they fight me, vigorous and angry, watch them pounce  
_ _ignite me, licking up the flames they bring about_

   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you leave me enough ego boosts in the form of comments and kudos then i might actually upload the next chapter sooner than mid 2019

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! a new chap is on its way soon. my [tumblr](http://tylerthirstbot.tumblr.com) inbox is always open for hcs or hellos, so come visit me there if you want!!


End file.
